You Never Forget Your First Doctor
by Serenitychan13
Summary: The Eleventh Doctor crash lands the TARDIS onto a young lady's front lawn. Now really, people, you know where this is going, particularly if you read my Repo! The Genetic Opera works! This is semi-plotless, adult-oriented fun. If you don't like OCs, you are welcome not to read. Flame me not, for I am a fire eater. Enjoy the smutty fun. Rated for chapters to come after this one.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **_**You'd think I'd have learned by now to stay out of fan fictions before I'm actually in the fandom, but for some reason, that lesson escapes me. I don't own Doctor Who and forgive me for any OOC-ness – I'm just a poor lost fangirl with a whole lot of things wrong with her head.**_

Chapter 1

Okay, what a night! The brunette girl dragged herself out of bed with a distinct feeling of shame and general filthiness. A quick glance in the mirror across the room confirmed her fears – thankfully not her worst ones. Yes, she had been magnificently drunk last night. No, nothing monumentally tragic, stupid, or destructive had happened. She shuddered and pushed her mane of brown, hip-length snarls behind her back as she headed for the shower. Last night's T-shirt, bra, and jeans hit the bathroom floor, causing her to grin at her own habit of not wearing underpants. Scrunching her nose at her looks in the mirror, she leaned over and grabbed her toothbrush, taking care of that quickly. The following rinse honestly made her feel a whole lot better and she smiled at her rumpled reflection. Steam from the shower filled the little tile room and she stepped in with a hiss.

"Oh yeah, that happened," she said to herself, reaching for comb and conditioner to try and tame the rat's nest. "God, my friends completely rock."

The black plastic comb really did work in conjunction with the conditioner and soon all that lovely brown hair streamed down her bare back. She tried really hard not to look too pleased with herself, failed miserably, and plunked down to shave her legs. Yes, she'd shaved them last night before going out, but she felt the need to scrape whatever happened last night off her. Normally, she liked to sing in the shower, but this morning she simply hummed rather tunelessly. With that business taken care of, and a few other things, she grabbed her sea sponge and peppermint-rose body wash. Ooh, yes… That was exactly what she needed – get the rest of last night off and _then _ponder what happened. Her face still possessed that rather silly grin.

Washing, for this girl, normally didn't take that long. She was generally all business – any sort of play happened with her massaging shower head and not before she felt clean. This morning, though, she took her time. The sponge felt terrific on her shoulders especially. With all the white suds washing down the drain, she could almost see the stupidity that happened last night. Oh, and it was fantastic – a new high in lows! She scrubbed at her breasts, gritting her teeth at how tender they were (probably from whatever happened last night) and moved on down her body. After her shower, she intended to call her friend whose party it had been and try to scrape together some details. For the moment, though, she just bent forward and continued down her legs to her ankles.

"Victoria, you're beautiful," she addressed herself with another grin. "Never, ever change."

Studying herself, she decided it had been a good idea to invest in that Brazilian. One, she really liked how it looked and felt. Two, she had someone in mind to show it off to – she knew herself and her friends and her pants had definitely stayed on during the festivities. Three, it made a hot shower even hotter. Her thoughts and hand found the massaging shower head and she hissed at the soreness in her knees as she maneuvered a bit to lie down in the bath tub. She closed her eyes and started to let the heat of the water and the massaging jets take over. It never failed – nothing got her off faster. White teeth dug into her lip, almost causing her to taste blood. Her legs started to shake and she bucked against the water jets. Oh hell, she was so close she could almost feel it – fuck, she wanted to come so badly, right now!

It totally sucked when she heard that crash and let out a yell to rattle window panes all over the house.

She quickly rinsed herself off, squeezed her hair out in a hurry, and turned the water off, cursing all the while as she reached for her towel. Wrapping up, she banged the bathroom door open and threw a ratty lavender bathrobe on over her towel. Whatever just made that noise had better hope that it was cute and fluffy or something like that. Certainly she wouldn't admit to being hung-over, but she had most definitely awakened with a mild headache that had just caused her to become homicidal! Tugging her bathrobe closer around her, she stomped to her front door. Cracking her neck and not giving it much more thought, she threw the door open, stepping out angrily and shivering.

"Who the hell are you?" she shouted at the gentleman stumbling round on her front lawn. "And did you… crash… that?"

Weird! There was a large blue box-looking thing tilted to one side and stuck in the grass – she wasn't entirely sure _who,_ but someone was bound to pitch a fit about that. Still clutching her robe and the towel under it, she made her way down the front steps to confront the man with the box. He looked like a real weirdo – twill jacket with elbow patches and bow tie, just to start with, and a _fez_. Who the hell wore stuff like that? Tall and thin, it appeared his clothes almost didn't fit right, but somehow it worked for him. However, she did stop herself. After all, only an idiot would walk right up to some crazy who'd just apparently…

Wait a second, hold that thought! Had this guy somehow… dropped out of the sky in that box thing somehow? The young lady shook her head, swishing wet hair around, and wondered if maybe she had just passed out on Seamus's front porch and was dreaming still. Taking a deep breath and letting out, she stepped off that last step and inched towards him. First and foremost, she wanted to resolve this quickly so she could go back inside and vegetate. The guy kept circling the blue box-looking thingy and muttering to himself. Victoria couldn't quite tell what he was saying, but she could make out that he had an English accent. Twitchy little bastard, he sure seemed to be. Oh well, this could go one of two ways, so she went up and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Ah!" he startled, pulling a funny vibrator-looking thing from inside his jacket.

"Uh, mister?" she started, staring at the object with great misgiving. "Might be a stupid question, but… what are you doing?"

He cocked his head to one side, looking at her as though she were a particularly interesting specimen of a rare type of bird.

"Not to worry, I'm the Doctor," he told her in a frank manner, turning round and pointing at the box with the vibrator. "Minor… inconvenience… These things happen, I suppose."

Victoria stared at him – the neighbors across the street had come out with their tiny, fuzzy dog, and the three of them gawked at the scene in the yard.

"Minor inconvenience?" the girl bristled, curling her toes against her cold, cold front walk and feeling very frustrated. "Again, I ask you, _minor inconvenience?_ One, what is this… thing? And two, I want it – and you – gone and I mean right now before I call the police!"

The man turned back round to face her again, still not putting that vibrator thing away – could he not stand to have it out of his hand? Victoria took a step back – the object lit up and made a strange whistling sound. Maybe it wasn't a vibrator. Well, she didn't _want _to know what it was. She just wanted to not have to look at it.

"No, dear, no need to summon the police," the guy told her in what, she was sure, he thought was a reassuring tone. "I can have this fixed in a quick…"

He didn't finish his sentence, the sound of the blue box beeping angrily and shaking back and forth cutting him off.

"Oh come, darling!" he said to the box. "We'll be off again in no time at all!"

Oh great, thought Victoria, crazy man on the front lawn talking to a great huge box. This could only end well, the line of thought continued sarcastically. She went up and tapped him on the shoulder again, dodging as he swung round animatedly.

"Really, dear, what is it?" he asked, a note of agitation in his voice as he continued to point the lit-up vibrator… thing… at the box. "I am _trying _to get out of your way. She's just being rather difficult."

Victoria had no idea why this crazy man referred to the blue box tilting dangerously, embedded in her front lawn, as "she" and she didn't really want to know, but she did decide to try again.

"Look… um… sir?" she ventured, this time walking forward and getting deliberately into his line of vision. "You have got to hang on for a second and tell me what's going on."

When the box emitted another string of noises, which the odd-looking man seemed to understand, he did let his shoulders drop and turned to face Victoria. It was then that she noticed he looked quite lost. He tucked the vibrator-looking object back into his jacket, straightened the lapels, and tilted his head quizzically at her. If his composure had actually been lost, he certainly regained it at lightning speed. Victoria tilted her head back at him, scrunching her nose to one side and raising an eyebrow at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Maybe you better come on inside," she told him after a second, wondering if she had all of a sudden lost her mind, justifying herself by saying, "It's cold out here."

She turned and went back up the steps. The blue box made another few sounds, the man who'd introduced himself as the Doctor told it something, and then he followed Victoria. He shut the door carefully behind him, looking round somewhat bewilderedly at the house. A large dog trotted in from the other room, sniffing him momentarily before scooting away. A smaller, much older dog followed, giving the new arrival a rather derisive stare and departing as well. The Doctor continued after Victoria, on into the living room. She sat down on one of two rather shabby tan love seats, motioning to him to take the other one. He did, once more tilting his head at her like she might well be something marvelous.

"What are you staring at?" she asked him, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Is there something on my face?"

The Doctor shook his head, muttering something that she couldn't quite distinguish.

"So… how did you wind up in my front yard, tell me that?" she continued on being direct. "And what is that box thing?"

Those darting eyes all of a sudden became very piercing, staring into Victoria's own hazel-green ones intensely. She got the idea quite immediately that perhaps she shouldn't be asking any more questions, not something she normally felt. It took a _lot _to shut her up. Her long fingernails dug into the lavender fleece of her bathrobe as she clutched it even closer. The raggedy man in her living room had this _presence _about him that both frightened and intrigued her. One, normally, she probably would have called the police straightaway about some idiot on her lawn, especially after last Christmas… And no young lady in her right mind invited a crazy man in! Something in his bearing, however, let her know that he would not harm her.

"We had… slight technical difficulties," he said rather sheepishly. "Got into a small disagreement, you see – made landing quite suddenly… necessary."

Victoria decided she really didn't want to know what the guy meant by 'had a disagreement' with that blue thing. Whether or not he was all that put together upstairs, he seemed like he didn't mean anything by it. He did look at her rather curiously, sort of drifting about the living room and examining objects on the walls and shelves. She watched him in equal interest, tilting her head as he picked up a frame containing a photo of her as a small child. It actually made her smile – something about him picking that up brought back the memory of being an angel in the Christmas pageant. Of course, she had been in the fourth grade, but it felt at once like it was yesterday. Even the smell of the church's incense came back to her, and she got the feeling he had directly caused this. The Doctor, as he said he was, set the photo frame down.

"I do thank you," he told her, smiling in a very soft manner all of a sudden. "For inviting me in…"

Very quickly, like getting hit with heat from a hair-dryer, the young lady felt very warm, and the Doctor had seated himself on the loveseat beside her. She swallowed hard, feeling like her bathrobe and towel had disappeared. Obviously, they had not, so her hand tightened on the collar of the robe and she pressed her knees closely together. The perfectly confident look had returned to his face as he continued to look round, bringing his bearing back to almost-overwhelming.

"You… um… You're welcome," she returned stiffly, still unsure really what to do with herself. "So… How long is it going to take to fix?"

The self-proclaimed Doctor looked sheepish again.

"Here's the thing, dear," he started off trying to explain. "It's not so much a question of 'fixing _it_' as it is a matter of 'waiting on _her_.' She's quite displeased with me this time."

Victoria clacked her teeth together, an old nervous habit – she really didn't like him referring to that big blue thing like it was a lady, and a rather snippy one at that. Oh hell, now she – Victoria – had taken up that method of reference as well. Something about this raggedy man's oddness was some sort of contagious. He was clearly crazy; there was no doubt of that. However, the overwhelming majority of her gut feelings continued telling her that he was not going to do anything untoward. She turned toward him on the loveseat, studying him carefully. The smile had returned to his face and he leaned forward like he had some sort of wonderful secret to tell her.

"Are you aware…" he began, leaning in just a touch closer to her. "You smell very much like a fresh-baked peach pie?"


	2. Chapter 2

Victoria could only sit and stare at the man who had crash-landed on her lawn, introduced himself as 'the Doctor,' and now sat in her living room telling her precisely how she smelled.

"Oh, not to worry, dear, it's quite all right," the Doctor said quickly, it seeming to dawn on him that perhaps he had said something out of the ordinary. "I certainly meant no offense – I rather like peach pies and they are best when fresh-baked."

This time, all she found herself capable of doing would be to let her mouth hang open, her hand falling away from her robe out of sheer '_what the ever-loving FUCK?_' She tilted her head at this odd, odd man in the fez, who gazed back at her with this expression of something like wonder. He kept staring like he had never seen a female of the human species before. For some reason, he had not changed his position, still leaning in like he had some sort of secret to tell her.

"Perhaps I should go back to thanking you for letting me come in," he continued, his voice softening and not seeming quite so manic. His eyes scanned her form. "It does just now occur to me that it must have been dreadfully cold to you out there."

He stretched a hand out, touching the hem of her bathrobe – it fell only to her knees even when she was sitting down – and traced the small green shapes on the lavender fleece.

"Are these… turtles?" he asked her, a sort of different smile on his face.

Victoria nodded.

"Uh-huh…" she said softly, feeling not quite wrong-footed and more like she had in the seconds before she received her very first kiss.

What was it about this man that had the ability to induce the visitation of buried memories as though the events themselves had happened just moments ago? The one with the Christmas angel had been sweet enough, innocuous. Remembering exactly how she felt just before getting her first kiss, however, brought back all that went with that. Butterflies went dancing about in her digestive system, her face felt hot, and she couldn't resist the urge to stare at and play with her own hands. Long, pale fingers encircled them, causing her restless fidgeting to cease. When she made eye contact with him, it seemed to surprise them both. She broke it quickly. He went back to staring round the room, though his hand did not leave the hem of her bathrobe. Something about those little cartoon turtles made both his hearts feel a touch warm.

Many moments passed with relative silence between them. The mad man who had come with the box pulled the strange vibrator-looking thing out of his jacket once more. It lit up and produced a few whirring sounds as he gestured round the room with it. This time, Victoria followed the path the Doctor traced with the sonic screwdriver. She visited the memories, felt the feelings again, in every photograph, still wondering how any of this had even happened. It kept occurring to her, like a small bird landing on her head, that she had invited this crazy guy into her house. So far, really, all he had done was tell her she smelled like pie and get very interested in her bathrobe. The whole thing with the photos and the memories and the feelings, well… that had to be her overthinking of things, right?

Wait a second, she thought, when had he ended up so _close _to her on the loveseat? She could smell him now, the scent of some sort of smoke and a hint of something else warm and good. Biting her lip lightly, she tried to surreptitiously scoot a tiny bit closer to the gentleman. If he noticed, he at least pretended not to, continuing to let his eyes dart round the room. Now that the excitement of discovering a crazy person on her lawn had subsided, Victoria felt her headache coming back. She shifted round a little and found the bit where the couch cushion dipped sort of. Her head came to rest on the Doctor's shoulder – if asked she would say she was sorry. The headache implored her to close her eyes and she did so. A brief smile accompanied the realization that she could feel the warmth of his neck on her nose, the one bit of her always cold.

"I'm so cold," she whispered, mostly to herself.

Before she really knew what was happening, his hand found her cheek and his lips were on hers. She _did _feel a sensation that had not set upon her in a very, very long time. It hadn't been apparent if he smoked – any smoker would have needed one after that crash – but he tasted like it. Perhaps it was just something about him, maybe the same source of the scent of him. Rather more shyly than had become her style, she let her hand come up and thread into his hair. His tongue slid so very carefully along the seam of her lips, asking rather than demanding entrance. Smiling against him and feeling her common sense jump right out of her head, Victoria gladly granted it. She had never kissed a smoker who tasted sweet (she couldn't tell if he did or not) but he certainly was. The Doctor's arms moved around her and held her close, sort of tilting the both of them back on the couch.

When he pulled back, she decided she didn't really want to ask why that just happened, nor did she want to question why she had not stopped it. The pounding thought of '_normal girls do not do things like this_' had petered away to a sort of mild thumping. It didn't matter much anymore, especially since Victoria had started to wonder if she would remember any of this tomorrow. She simply lay back in his arms, marveling that he hadn't tried anything else. The neck line of her bathrobe lay totally untouched and the hem stayed right where it was. This… Doctor… allowed a few moments for her to recover, gazing at her almost expectantly. His fez now sat cockeyed on his head.

"Are you still cold?" he asked her, running one hand through her long, wet hair. "I can fix that, you know…"

A whole slew of questions tumbled through Victoria's mind, but somehow none of them made it out of her mouth. That being the case, they probably weren't worth paying all that much attention to anyhow. All she reasonably could think of at the moment was how she wanted that to happen again… and yes, she was still cold. So, she nodded up at him, still looking rather bemused by the whole series of events this morning.

"It's all right," he said again, sounding as though he said this a lot. "I'm the Doctor."

She still had no fucking clue what that meant, what he was a Doctor of, or why he referred to himself in the infinitive, and she no longer gave a damn. Certainly, she didn't protest when he pulled her close again, this time kissing the side of her throat. His touch remained careful – not shy this round, yet still very delicate, as if he held something made of bone china. Even so, Victoria could clearly _feel _the strength he had in his arms, the effort it seemed to take to hold back. After a moment or two, he lifted his head to look at her, still studying her like a scientific curiosity. She reached up and traced his cheek bones with her long fingernails, causing him to shut his eyes and ever-so-slightly lean into it. The thrill that raced up her spine had her desiring to take him upstairs right this second! Those enigmatic eyes of his glinted with something that she could not translate.

"Doctor?" she ventured, unsure really of how to begin a conversation with him still, but enjoying for some reason addressing him as such. "How… why… you… um… is this?"

She could only stammer for the few seconds after that, falling silent.

"Well, I think the answer to that is…" he began, tilting his head at her as though in wonder. "I have time…"

Victoria couldn't fathom for the life of her _why_, but that made perfect sense. Yes, he had time – they both had _time_. She still had no idea why that just clicked, but it did. At the moment, though, she didn't really want to question much beyond that. The Doctor's lips came down on hers again, still careful, but now less… modest. He shifted her weight to one arm so that his free hand could trace the neck line of her bathrobe. She could somehow _feel _a sort of gleeful curiosity coming from him, as if everything he felt, he simply radiated like a light bulb. The only people who telegraphed their feelings on that level were either small children or crazy people. In her mind, she had already filed him under "totally bonkers" – this mad man who crashed a box onto her front lawn.

The Doctor's hand dipped under the turtle-printed bathrobe to find her bare shoulder, long fingers and square palms sliding over the soft ridge of bone. Her teeth scraped across her lower lip again, but he did not immediately divert his attention to her towel-covered breasts. He seemed fascinated by the feel of her skin. Coming from basically anyone else, seeing as she was unused to such a level of _closeness_, this would have been off-putting – even creepy. With the Doctor, though, it felt quite natural. His default state of being seemed to be one of exploration. A few more moments passed, the mad man gazing quite intently at what he was doing as he slid the shoulder of her robe away. Normally, she would have protested, but the action had almost certainly been non-sexual. Well… at least mostly…

"You _are _cold," he declared, running the backs of his fingers over her shoulder one more time as if to make sure he had drawn the correct conclusion. "And I must admit I feel somewhat responsible."

Well, yes, Victoria wanted to say, it _was _his doing – though she did get the feeling he had done so unintentionally and possibly indirectly – that she'd had to go outside in the cold in her bathrobe. But it seemed, now, to be neither here nor there, and besides, he'd gotten the message. Her next thought: could they maybe do this somewhere besides this rotten old loveseat? The damn thing, nice leather notwithstanding, reeked of at least two dogs.

"Well then," she cheeked him, grinning rather mischievously and seeing something like a spark of recognition in his eyes. "What are you going to do about it… Doctor?"

At that, he disentangled himself from her and rose from the loveseat. For one terrible-feeling moment, Victoria wondered if maybe she had just blown the whole thing. Maybe this was a drunken dream and she had just fallen off whatever she'd passed out on and awakened herself! Maybe she had imagined this whole thing and it was one of those dumb fantasies that ended too fast! Or… perhaps he had simply arisen to extend his hand to her like a gentleman. She composed herself as best she was able, also thinking vaguely '_when did I start panting?_' Her knees, at least, remained properly pinned together, so she did, in fact, get up off the couch without flashing him. Hell, maybe he would have liked it, she thought belatedly, standing shakily and nearly falling against his side.

"Damn hangover knees," she grumbled to herself, inadvertently admitting to her previous night's overindulgence and still not discounting that as a possibility for causing this whole morning. "Sorry about that."

The Doctor smiled at her, the expression again one of confidence bordering on an ego.

"Think nothing of it," he responded graciously, his words and tone incongruous with his countenance. "Allow me to help you?"

Victoria looked at him, still a bit bemused, and tilted her head.

"Help me with what?" She righted herself, pulling herself away from his side and insisting upon standing on her own. "I've got this."

The Doctor raised his almost-nonexistent right eyebrow at her.

"One – no, you don't," he corrected her, still smiling quite amiably. "Two – upstairs, of course; it isn't decent to do this kind of thing on a couch."

Hazel-green eyes blinked back at him, a sardonic expression answering him.

"We're apparently doing… this," she started in feigned disbelief. "And you're worried about decency?"

At that, the Doctor let out a burst of rather gleeful laughter, causing Victoria to at the very least smile as well.

"Well, it would almost certainly be less comfortable for you to do… _this_… here," he remarked mischievously. "So, upstairs, is it?"

The mischief in his voice was infectious and Victoria took the Doctor's hand, taking the lead so that they found the correct bedroom. She smiled back at him as she led the way up the stairs, almost face-planting at the top of the staircase. Again, damn hangover knees, she thought, graciously allowing the Doctor to, of course, _think _he was helping her up. Her smile when she looked back at him again, said '_I meant to do that,_' sort of like a cat tripping over furniture. The Doctor, in equal grace, only smiled, refraining from comment on her near-acrobatics.

They continued down the hall, Victoria surreptitiously checking her hair in the hall mirror and feeling her organs kind of squelch a bit – all that wet hair had gone a bit of everywhere. She reached up and tried to be discreet about moving some of it around. Her hair touched her tailbone when wet, so maybe discretion wasn't going to happen. The Doctor paused with her about halfway down the hall and, when she looked up at him quizzically, helpfully tucked a few strands behind her ear. For the first time in she couldn't remember when, Victoria found herself _giggling_ like a schoolgirl. Somehow, the Doctor had taken the lead, that crazy lit-up green vibrator thing out again. It seemed that he already knew which bedroom was hers and that way, he went. This time, Victoria followed him.

The door shut behind him and the young lady squeaked in almost-protest as she found herself very suddenly off the floor. That same soft, smoky smell surrounded her – it took her that long to realize she was in the Doctor's arms. Immediately, she clacked her teeth together nervously again… her weight bothered her a bit too much for her to be comfortable with this. She squirmed a little, but the Doctor took it as enthusiasm and held her a bit tighter. At this, it didn't seem too bad to let her head rest on his shoulder just for a moment. Her bed remained in the condition she had left it in when she dragged herself out not even an hour ago. The covers fluffed up around her when he playfully dropped her on it, fluffing in ways she had only ever seen in Macy's Housewares commercials.

"Well, that was new!" she giggled, pulling her bathrobe back up round her – the belt had come loose and she definitely felt her towel come undone when she dropped. "I never have had that happen before!"

Letting his lanky frame hit the bed beside her, the Doctor looked over at her smiling face and tilted his head.

"You've never been carried to bed before, like a lady?" he asked bluntly – Victoria loved how, with his accent, he pronounced _been_ the way it was supposed to be, with both E's. The Doctor's bemused, this-side-of-delighted expression fell away for a moment. "That's… sad."

A strange smile lit on Victoria's lips, she shook her head, and she turned on her side to face him.

"Doesn't matter," she told him, that smile still there as she reached out to take hold of his jacket and pull him in. "If this is going to happen, then let's have some fun!"

In an instant, the Doctor's hand closed round her wrist and pinned it down on the bed between them. Victoria looked startled – that happened very quickly. She stared at him with guarded eyes, wondering where this obviously-corkers fellow might go with this. For a long time, she had convinced herself that she'd been through so much that not much anymore could scare her. However, there was just enough insanity about this man to cause her a prickle of fear in the base of her spine. He had not let go of her, but a second look at his face gave her what she might call third thoughts.

"No, no, dear," he corrected, still not releasing his grip. "I firmly believe that life is entirely too short to go without new experiences."

For some reason, that remark coming out of him sounded both sad and snarky.

"I believe I am going to give you the experience of being bedded properly… like a lady," he continued, his voice turning almost ominous. "And I think I shall do so whether you like it or not."

Victoria pressed her knees together, not out of fear or modesty, but at the rising heat she felt instantaneously between her legs. Oh hell no, she thought. No way in hell was she giving up or giving in that easily! Okay, so by Dolly Parton's famous saying, maybe she _was _easy this morning, but there was zero chance of her giving it up cheap, so to speak. He would have to _work _for it!

"And what if I want to be on top?" she challenged him, frustrated to find that she could not break his grip one-handed. He seemed so… slight at first glance. "What then?"

The smile on the Doctor's face went from wondrous cheer at everything round him to something almost menacing.

"My dear, that is exactly the idea," he informed her in a voice that seemed to spill from his lips to her ears with the feel of velvet. "I am sure you understand…"

The way he practically purred those last words caused Victoria to squirm once more, still pinning her knees together as hard as she could. This did not go unnoticed by the mad man. He tucked his fingers into the front of her bathrobe and neatly tugged it to one side. Her towel did not quite fall away, held in place by the other half of the lavender, turtle-printed fleece – much to her relief! With her free hand, she attempted to hold the remainder of her decent cover in place. Her wet hair felt dreadfully cold against her one bare shoulder. The Doctor, on the other hand, did not seem to be greatly tolerant of her keeping that hold.

He finally did let go of her wrist and, surprisingly enough, she did not move her hand away from where he'd had it pinned. With his now-free hand, he reached out once more. This time, he took hold of the hand she used to keep her towel and bathrobe over her rather ample chest. His deep, dark eyes kept her hazel-green ones strangely entrapped as he worked. One at a time, he teased each of her fingers loose from its death-grip. However, when he turned her gently on her back, guided her hand to her side, and gently pinned it on the bed there, the towel and half-the-bathrobe stayed put.

"Not to worry," he said in response to the rather confused expression on her face. "I intend to take my time with you…"

Very slowly, so deliberately, he hooked his fingers under the remaining half of the bathrobe and as his lips found the warm skin where her neck and shoulder met, pulled that away. Victoria shivered at the chill of cold air against newly-bared skin, squirming at the Doctor's weight bearing slightly on her. That felt slightly new as well, she thought. His other hand traced the shoulder he had uncovered first, his palm warm against her. Next, his lips moved from where they had been down to where his hand had just pulled the purple fleece away. She gasped in surprise when his teeth grazed the point of her shoulder in a light nip.

"I think you liked that," he whispered to her, warm breath soft against her ear. "Shall I try that again?"

He lifted his head from her shoulder to capture her gaze once more, that same almost-menacing smile on his lips. Before she could answer, he returned to the side of her throat, lips and teeth playing havoc with the sensitive skin there. A moan spilled from Victoria's lips and she writhed beneath him, allowing space for him to entwine her in one arm. His other hand remained free to tangle in her wet curls, tilting her head back with gentle force so as to allow better access. Victoria's hands crept up his back almost shyly, something she hadn't felt in forever. Her long fingernails scratched against his tweed jacket, hands tightening as he bit a tiny bit harder. She gasped, smiled, and squirmed more, wondering if she would have a mark or two after this and deciding she wouldn't mind in the slightest.

"Hmm…" she half-hummed, half-moaned as she tilted her head away in invitation; she wanted him to do that again! "I _do _like that…"

At that, the Doctor pulled away and stood beside the bed, looking down at her. Victoria's eyes went wide in uncertainty – what had she done now? Slowly, he shrugged out of that tweed jacket and, instead of letting it drop, set it neatly upon a chair. Letting her squirm for a moment longer, he took his time in approaching the bedside again. The girl smiled at how he looked in his white shirt with the suspenders over it. He sat down with an uncanny grace and leaned over so that his lips almost touched her ear – just far enough away that she could feel his warmth. A soft whine escaped her lips at the realization that he held himself off enough not to _touch _her at all.

"Well then," he intoned right into her ear, voice husky and coming from deep in his chest. "A gentleman does as his lady wishes."

Easily enough, he turned and straddled her hips, still holding himself off her entirely. His hand threaded into her hair – the first contact he allowed her. He stopped her when she tried to reach up to him, holding her hand rather forcefully in place for just a moment. Gently, he settled his weight over her, now using his hips as well as his hands to keep her in place. This time, when his hand tangled up in her hair, it felt like he _meant _it! Victoria let out a keening cry as his hips and mouth pushed down upon her at the same time. His tongue trailed along the pulse point where her jugular vein throbbed wantonly beneath her skin already.

Determined to keep some control in this, Victoria struggled to get one of her legs out from under his, freeing it and wondering suspiciously if he had just _let_ her do that. Demanding some say, she hooked her knee round him, using that leverage to thrust herself quite boldly against him. Considering his mouth stayed busy with her throat as he enjoyed the sounds she produced, the action stood. Her hands now clawed at his back through his shirt and she could feel him through his trousers, hard against her. Spreading her legs as best she could, she discovered the coarse fabric produced a delicious sensation against soft, wet skin. As both his hands twisted in her hair, she started to grind her hips against his, all of a sudden finding her moans muffled by his lips on hers. Now his tongue did dare to demand entrance and she let hers meet it in challenge.

Now, long fingernails threaded through the Doctor's hair. When his fez fell away to the side, it did get his attention. He pulled back to observe what had done so far. The girl's hair lay around her in damp waves, framing a blushing face that featured kiss-swollen lips. She only whined momentarily at the loss of his kiss, but then her sounds of pleasure continued. It took him a moment to figure out precisely what she was doing to make those noises. Her hips worked against his, leaving a wet place on the front of his trousers, and from what he could tell, she was close to bringing herself off! Part of him wanted to let her have it. The fact that she so obviously wanted it and hovered so close to that edge caused his cock to twitch. But that wasn't part of the game, now, was it?

"No, dear," he cooed in her ear, arching up so that he pulled away from the contact. It caused his own eyes to widen, the loss of warm, thrusting sensation. "A lady does not take…"

He hadn't been finished with that statement, but had to pause to redouble his efforts to keep her nicely pinned under him – she growled and writhed and seemed to be trying to bite him!

"… but a gentleman gives," he finished smartly, pushing his knee rather forcefully between her legs and letting her thrust just long _enough_, then frustrating her.

To prove his point, he brought one hand down out of her hair. Her bathrobe lay parted and her decency remained intact only by the corner of the pink towel that remained where it had been. Grinning at her in his original mischievous way, he leaned down and took that corner in his teeth. Victoria whined and turned her head to the side as his hair tickled her skin, then yelped at realizing what happened. She half-sat up and attempted to cover herself with her hands. No, no, thought the Doctor, now that wouldn't do at all… He held her hips down with his own, took her hands in his, and returned them to their places at her sides. His lips claimed hers again, the kind of kiss that let her know that – at least for the moment – he was in charge of this experience.

The towel was finally out of the way and he looked down to see, finally, what he had stumbled upon with this particular adventure. She was small and rather slim, though her trim waist did lead down to lovely hips and muscled thighs. He had always – even with as relative a term as "always" was to him – had this _thing _for a woman's legs. Maybe it couldn't exactly be defined as a fetish, but the attraction could not be ignored, and certainly hers did not leave a thing to be desired. Indulging himself before his lady only for a moment, he slid down the bed and allowed himself to take his time. Going slowly down from her hips, he let his hands glide over the swell of the muscles of her thighs. Victoria bit her lip and moaned in response, spreading her legs just a touch. He placed a sweet kiss on her hip bone before continuing downward. Her calves were shapely and her skin so incredibly smooth.

"Lovely," he breathed, now descending to nip just above her knee and letting his hands continue running over her skin. He seemed to be talking mostly to himself now. "You are so very lovely, my dear."

Victoria had certainly never had this sort of attention paid to her before! His hands were almost eerily soft, and the way he touched her made her feel shaky inside. He guided her knees a little further apart, his position relative to her in the bed giving her chills. Lying there in her rumpled bed with her legs spread to give him access, she could only anticipate now. His hands slid back up her calves one more time, coaxing her to bend her knees and spread open just a little wider. The air in the room chilled her softest skin, still wet from her earlier squirming on him. She heard him coo something that she couldn't quite make out and had not the presence of mind to ask for a repeat.

The first time his lips touched her there, she could only gasp – at first, out of surprise, but then in pleasure as it dawned on her how good this felt! Part of her, maybe the very back of her mind, still wondered what the hell was going on. His tongue slid up across that soft, smooth skin so, so slowly. Gently, he let a single finger find her entrance as he drew moan after moan from her. She was wet and had a lovely taste, he decided. An added bonus – she was tight. Another finger slid inside her, the tips of both digits finding the place inside her with a flourish. Victoria's eyes went wide, her body tightening on his fingers. When he started to move those fingers inside of her, she threw her head back and let out a long, loud "_aaaah!_" His tongue continued to tease her, just tracing round where she really wanted it – he listened to her pant and enjoyed her denial so incredibly much!

He couldn't decide if he wanted to give it to her just yet, and he definitely had time to keep her going for much longer. The Doctor just loved the sounds that this young woman made, the way she didn't bother at all trying to hold it in. Her hips attempted to rise off the bed, held fast by his hands, as she moaned so loudly he wondered if her neighbors next door might hear. In all the years he had lived, it never failed to dawn again upon him how lovely it was to make a woman make such noise. There came a unique feel of power, a power granted by giving, that came with the sound. So, he let his tongue just ghost over the one place where she really needed it. That contact earned him something sounding like a combination of another, deeper moan and an almost-scream. Victoria half-sat up, reaching her hands down to tangle in his hair – he couldn't tell whether it was to pull him closer or push him away.

"Now dear, why don't you tell me what you _really_ want," he teased when he pulled back, leaving her writhing in his hands. "I couldn't quite tell."

When he looked up, he saw glittering hazel-green eyes half-closed and blazing back at him. Her breasts rose and fell most enticingly, reminding him that they had been neglected. Hmm, but there was time to go back and pay them proper attention… later, he decided. Victoria clenched her teeth briefly, released the grip to exhale a quick breath, and bit down again on her lip. A deep flush of red crept from her cheeks all the way down to the tops of those gorgeous breasts. All right, so the good Doctor _could_, in fact, be distracted. Well, the only way to deal with a temptation…


	3. Chapter 3

Yes, it had been that splendid Wilde fellow who said it best: "The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself." All right, so the Doctor wasn't sure if he had a _soul _to speak of, maybe not the way humans understood the damn things, but the concept remained the same. Victoria's breasts, blushingly exposed as her hands twitched with the almost-subsiding need to cover herself, needed his attention. He took his time in licking her properly one more time, bringing her with a proud flourish to the edge of climax. Those unique eyes of hers spewed promises of bodily harm if he didn't let her over soon, but he had himself a new mission – satisfy his craving – before he would allow her release. His fingers remained between her legs, keeping her _right there_… With stamina far beyond that of a human male, he could ignore the throbbing in his pants to continue teasing her. Now where was he?

He could hear her fingernails scratching against the fitted sheet on the bed in response to his tongue's first caress of one hardened little tip, chilled by the air in the room. Flicking his tongue teasingly back and forth earned him several gasps, a moan or two, and a sudden nip bought a cry. Smiling lips encircled that same bud, treating her to warmth that spread through her veins like bourbon. An involuntary grin spread across her own lips, the taste of last night's drink of choice returning. This uncanny _thing _he had of inducing hallucinations of sensory input made her toes curl. Gently, he continued, letting his teeth barely graze the tightened skin once more. However, Victoria wanted more, squirming against his fingers and daring to tangle one hand in his hair.

"Damn you, I'm not delicate!" she complained, arching her back up to him. "Bite me!"

Before Victoria could blink, sharp teeth made her yelp, but the yelp turned into a moan as his lips sucked hard at where the Doctor had just bitten. His free hand cupped her unoccupied breast, flooding her nerves with the sensation of delicious warmth. She continued to squirm against the fingers he kept teasing her with, never quite touching her where she wanted. He took the opportunity to slide those fingers inside her at the same time as delivering another quick bite. His tongue traced over the same little tip as he just bit, allowing his fingers to find the place inside her that made her writhe. And how she did writhe! Her legs began to shake, her lips trembled with the moans that flowed so freely from the, and her head tossed back and forth on the pillow. He had two choices and the decision might very well end up made for him! The young lady looked very much like she might come involuntarily in just a moment or so!

"Doctor… oh my god!" the words practically tore themselves from the squirming girl's throat. "Don't… don't stop… Don't you dare stop!"

Now, she had her hand clenched around his wrist, trying to pull his fingers right exactly to where she wanted them. Perhaps it wouldn't be too terribly much of a deviation from the concept of bedding her like a lady to let her have what she wanted just now, would it? The Doctor lifted his head from his lady's breast, once more observing her as though she were some great curiosity. Victoria's cheeks had turned deeply red, her breast the same color from his attention, and her body trembled. Her hand still wrapped round his wrist, but her grip quite nearly failed. Upon closer inspection, he saw the knuckles of that hand were white.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" he baited her so softly, keeping his hand very still with his fingers inside her. "I can leave you shaking…"

Victoria's eyes went wide as she stared up at the Doctor, her hand twitching on his wrist – he could practically see her considering mind before she obediently placed her hand back at her side. Yes, that would do very nicely! He kissed between her breasts once and pulled back again to observe her reactions. Her lips lay parted, her stilted breath making them quiver. Those still-damp brown waves spread enticingly over the pillow, drying in haphazard tangles. The hand she hadn't had clenched on his wrist lay by her side in a tight fist, those knuckles pale as well. Everything about this woman screamed to him without a single word, "You rotten bastard – let me come now!" She looked so frenzied, almost angry, so wild and shaken in wanting!

He had only to take a short pause, drawing away from her. She yelped again, this sound a raw declaration of physical need, those flashing eyes ablaze at him. Smiling so darkly at the woman who writhed beneath him, the Doctor slipped his fingers from her body. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he brought those same long, slender fingers up to his mouth, tasting how wet she was for him. He loved the sound she made, soft compared to the frantic, demanding noise of earlier. Victoria panted as this mad man licked his fingers clean, returning his hand between her legs. Gently, he trailed those same fingers over her softest skin, at the moment just taking his time to appreciate the feeling. She seemed almost on the verge of crying now, her hips shaking out of her control and her eyes gleaming in desperation.

"… Please?"

The Doctor tilted his head, still grinning maddeningly at her.

"I'm sorry?" he teased her, still just barely touching her. Fingertips slid briefly inside her, only enough to make her shiver even more. "Didn't catch that, dear…"

Her voice came out so very _small_…

"Please… Doctor…"

Every word sounded like a struggle as she fought to either maintain control of herself or take by force that last inch to bring her over the edge – he couldn't quite tell.

"Please… please make me come…"

Now, his smile turned ever so joyous!

"Darling, all you had to do was ask!" he all but exclaimed, the hand that had been caressing her breast taking her cheek its palm. "Ask me again one more time… It is lovely to hear."

This time, he found himself – quick as a flash – with a long-fingernailed hand twisted in his shirtfront, tugging his bowtie loose. Victoria looked more than capable of doing even the Doctor bodily harm if he did not follow through. Honestly, he enjoyed it! He loved the look on her face, eyes flashing and teeth clenched, as he gave her pussy one quick spank.

"_Doctor…_" she growled at him, pulling herself up since she found herself unable to pull him down to her – _damn _his unnatural physical strength! "Doctor will you _please… for the love of so many gods_… Make me _come! _Please!"

Very quickly, she found herself tossed back on the bed with his fingers inside her, tormenting her G-spot, and his lips breathing hotly into her ear. She finally ended up screaming, her body tightening on him to a point that would have caused a normal man pain! His tongue flicked against her earlobe, his body pressing down tightly on hers. His hand slid from her cheek into her hair – if he had twisted any harder even ten minutes ago, it wouldn't have hurt so wonderfully! Wave after wave of intense pleasure spread out via every nerve in her body, starting from between her legs. Victoria swore she could feel her heartbeat in her fingertips, in her knees, in her lips – everywhere but in her chest! The Doctor's long, questing fingers refused to let up. She hadn't felt anything like this… well… _ever_… and it almost frightened her, how tight she felt inside!

"Doctor! Oh my god… Please! Please! What the… oh my _god!_" she panted, stammering, continuing to clutch at his shirt like there was no tomorrow. She had to hold onto something! "Doctor, please! _Please! _I can't… please… oh shit… _PLEASE!_"

She barely even knew what she was begging for anymore. Her insides twisted like snakes that swallowed Slinkies. First, her jaw would clench, then she panted hard through an open mouth, and then she just couldn't open her mouth wide enough to scream – and still no sound came out at those moments! The Doctor wouldn't stop – he wouldn't let up even a little bit… Had she ever come this much before? It was too hard to think… No… No… She couldn't do it anymore! It was too much! She had to stop! _He _had to stop this!

"No… no!" the word spilled on repeat from her lips as she kept forcing her hips tighter against his hand. "No… no… no… Oh fuck… no… oh my God… no… Oh shit…"

The Doctor's lips pressed a heated kiss to her throbbing pulse point, licked a streak of sweat from hot skin, and then returned to her ear.

"No?" he repeated back to her, taking a moment to suck on her ear lobe and drawing another uncontrolled sound. "_No? _Darling, with the way you asked – quite nicely, by the way – you'll be lucky when I let you _stop…_"

He pulled back to take in the absolute half-and-half mix of emotions on her face, fifty percent fear and the other half anticipation, he suspected in spite of herself. Those beautiful hazel-green eyes rolled back in her head as his fingers quite forcefully worked inside of her. Cries, merciless and almost pained, tumbled from her lips unceasing when his thumb found her clit. As her body twisted beneath him, the Doctor found the need to bring his hand down from her hair. His arm clamped round her, holding her close enough that the hand clenched in his shirt laid pinned to her chest. Begging cries could be identified only by tone now, words having escaped her entirely now.

That hand still played her like a Stradivarius, causing her body to jerk and twitch now in his hold like she might be seizing. Even though Rule One was always "The Doctor lies," he intended to keep his word on this one – she would be coming until he allowed her to stop! Even as she bucked against him, he buried her face in the curve where her neck and shoulder met, letting his teeth find skin. At the feel of his bite, Victoria twisted her hand more in his shirt, the accompanying cry delightedly pained.

"_Doctor_…" her first coherent word in quite some time escaped on a breath.

Everything she felt _hurt_, but at the same time she couldn't remember feeling any set of sensations so exquisite in her life! She adored orgasm, of course, but never had the ability to control how hard and how much and when she could _stop _been taken from her… Her problems leaned more towards those of most women – stopping was _his _issue, not hers! But now, here she lay, in the arms of a mad man who crashed a box on her lawn and told her she smelled like peach pie. This man quite seriously held her orgasm in his hand and she hadn't even had the opportunity to give it to him! Never had she allowed a man to take this sort of control over her before. In the small part of her mind that still felt capable of coherent thought, she swore that she would be taking this control back in spades… For the moment, though – and both of them knew it – she belonged to him.

"That's it, darling," he cooed in her ear when he pulled away from his fresh bite mark. "Keep coming… You'll not be stopping anytime soon."

The sounds had turned on the side of screaming again – she almost sounded as though she were in pain. He could now feel those terribly long fingernails through his shirt, sharp tips grazing his skin as she fought for some control, longing for the ability to cease her own orgasm. When he lifted his head to get a look at her, he caught her eyes for only a moment before they rolled up in her head. The lids closed, her mouth still dropped open, and she genuinely shook in his arms. Perhaps, he thought rather vaguely, it was time for a small break for her… Lovely, his thought continued, the flushed cheeks and almost fever-bright eyes that opened only briefly, the shuddering body. It wasn't often he would admit this to himself, considering several things, but human extremes enticed him. In particular, at this moment, he found himself lured by the great strength and simultaneous weakness in her. It did almost strike him that she had held out this long against such intense stimulation!

"Do you know how to make it stop?" his voice threaded into her foggy brain. She looked truly distressed as she shook her head at him. "Clever girl… I'm sure you'll figure it out. In the meantime…"

He paused before turning all his attention on her clit. Wet fingers from their place inside her slid up to torment her. She screamed aloud when he spanked her pussy several times in rapid succession. On closer study of her face, he noticed a cloudy sheen to her eyes. Another quick spank and a kiss very sweetly on her cheek dispersed the clouds. They slid down her cheeks as tears. Something else he wouldn't admit readily to himself – under certain circumstances, a woman's tears were lovely. Of course, tears that came from an inability to cease orgasm… under his own hand… He pulled back for a moment, actually ceasing his ministrations, to watch her face carefully. His brow furrowed and he followed the path of her trembling hand. Had he not been not-just-a-little-bit impressed that she could move at all, he would have stopped her. Her shaking fingers brushed the tears away.

"I was going to get that," he told her, not accusingly and not impetuously. His voice had gone very soft, but his hand did return to its original activity. By her clenched teeth biting into her lip, he could tell she tried hard not to cry in earnest now. With his smile returning, he encouraged her, "Darling, you know how to make it stop… I know you do."

Further tears streamed down her face, her eyes blazing like she had fire behind them, and for a moment, the Doctor considered the possibility that she might react somewhat violently. Gently, he cradled her cheek in his hand and smiled almost wickedly at her as her body betrayed her. Limbs shook, her back arched, and jaw clenched. She stayed wet, squirmed, reminding him how very strong human bodies could be, while her eyes leaked weakness from her mind. As much as he loved watching her come and come, outside of her control, he _wanted _her to discover that she knew how to make it stop! He wanted to hear her… It was not a positive aspect of him, he had been informed, that he loved to hear them beg, but one liked what one liked! Victoria's body began to go limp in his arms, though her innermost muscles continued to twitch around his fingers.

"_Please…_"

A single word from her parted, quaking lips – her voice sounded something like broken – and he smiled almost lovingly.

"Again, dear," he coaxed – oh yes, he _did _love how she begged. "You're almost there…"

A soft sob answered him, her free hand twisting in the sheets beside them and the hand between their chests clenching hard. With tremendous effort, she lifted her head from the pillow, her almost-dry hair fanning round her. Her liquid-glossed eyes searched his eyes for something resembling mercy – she _needed _him to stop, but still had too much pride to beg that. His hand between her legs continued to drive her crazy, but the other continued stroking her cheek. Now, he let his forehead rest on hers, waiting for her to realize how to earn that mercy for herself. Tears that she tried hard to hold back still decorated her face in a manner incomparably exquisite. Both the Doctor's hearts began to beat a little faster, wanting her to beg him for what she needed. It seemed to be costing her an enormous amount of strength to hold up her head.

"Doctor… _please_…" she whispered through panting and tears. "_Please_ let me… let me…"

He stroked her hair, smiled at her, but wouldn't let up just yet – she hadn't asked properly!

"So close, love." His voice now caressed her ears. "But not quite!"

Victoria couldn't handle it another second, couldn't take the fingers dragging orgasm after orgasm from her helpless body.

"Please, Doctor, let…" She choked briefly, but brought her free hand up to dig into his shoulder through his jacket. Her eyes could not meet his, gazing off to the side at the carpet. "Let me stop… Please… _please let me stop._"

In that moment, all motion on the Doctor's part stilled. Victoria's body still quaked in his hold, tears on her face, and tremors in her lips. So very, very carefully, he let his fingers glide easily out of her, unable to resist one more flick of her clit and enjoying the resulting whimper. Once more, those fingers found his mouth – the taste of her desperation truly made him smile! Victoria lay motionless and fairly limp beneath him, now only twitching every few seconds.

"You did so very well, my dear," the Doctor encouraged her, now shifting with utmost caution to take her up in his arms. It made both his hearts twinge to feel her against him like this. But there were better ways to go about things like this. "Back in a flash…"

And with that, he all but sprang from the bed. The beloved bow tie was first to go, joining his tweed jacket draped over the chair. Next, smiling to himself as he could feel her watching him – even with how much she could keep her eyes open – he shrugged his suspenders off. Each button on his shirt came undone one at a time. The shirt hit the floor and he bent to untie his boots. As he stood, he scuffed out of those. Next, unzipping his trousers, undoing that button, and his trousers joined his shirt and boots unceremoniously on the floor. Finally, his socks – he figured his boxers he would allow her to remove, considering that she had truly _earned _a reward.


End file.
